A/N: First, thank you for your patience! Second, one of my favorite fanfic friends/fanfic authors, MerlinsSequinedHotPants, wrote a one-shot based on this story, told from Andromeda's POV on the scene in the Ministry of Magic. Read it right now and give her all the kudos and comments please! It's titled "Death is a Kindness," found on Ao3.
Enjoy the chapter!
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Remus felt his head dipping during the early July Order meeting. The full moon was the night before, but it still felt as if it were tugging at his bones and muscles. He blinked, feeling a soft hand on his forearm. Tonks, her brown hair streaked with dull pink, nodded upwards.
"Mad-Eye's just finalized the plans for us to collect Harry from Platform 9 ¾ tomorrow. Padfoot is going with him to Privet Drive for a few weeks," she whispered.
Remus lifted his weary gaze to where Sirius was sitting, clad in a new set of robes, looking healthier than ever. Ten days of freedom had done wonders for him. Every shop in Diagon Alley was desperate to get his business, wizards and witches sent in letters of congratulations (and several flirtatious requests), and the Ministry had paid him a hefty sum. Sirius had spent his newfound freedom helping Andromeda move into Grimmauld Place, and she spent her days of mourning crafting him a dozen sets of new robes.
Kingsley, Remus noticed, was on the opposite side of the table, the barest trace of longing on his face. He turned away when he saw Remus staring. Dumbledore took up his place at the head of the table.
"With the prophecy destroyed," Dumbledore began, his blue eyes sharp in the bronze light of the kitchen, "and Rufus Scrimgeour replacing Cornelius Fudge, our priorities will be changing. We must focus on recruitment, battling false information, and monitoring Voldemort's movements. Severus informs me he is no longer in residence at Malfoy Manor. He's believed to be with the Lestrange brothers. However, their estate appears uninhabited."
Arthur cleared his throat. "Recruit at the Ministry?"
"As well as you're able," nodded Dumbledore. "Naturally, most in our world will be reluctant to change their ways. Encourage your coworkers and neighbors to be attentive to unusual activity, particularly with the werewolf escape this morning."
Remus squawked; all eyes turned to him. It was the first he'd heard of a werewolf escape.
"This morning, at moonset, ten werewolves escaped the Ministry encampment. They were rumored to have escaped with the help of Fenrir Greyback," said Kingsley. "Rufus is not pursuing criminal charges. He would like to locate the werewolves, but they will not be punished, with the exception of Fenrir Greyback. He's remained out of the Ministry's grasp for years. There's talk of loosening restrictions on the remaining werewolves."
"About fucking time," Tonks grumbled, squeezing Remus's thigh. He looked down and suppressed a shiver.
"Will the Ministry or the Order need help locating the werewolves?" he asked. "I could be of some use . . . try to convince some werewolves to join us?"
"Perhaps," Dumbledore said, scrutinizing him. "It would require you to go underground, undercover. It wouldn't be without risks, given your family situation." He eyed Tonks and Andromeda, who joined the meeting at Tonks's insistence, if only to give her something to do other than sew her sorrows away.
"No, Remus," Tonks muttered angrily. "It's too risky."
Remus swallowed his pride and looked away. Everything was too risky, save for a day job. He'd tried to get his job back from the bookshop after quitting a few months earlier, at Moody's insistence, but they'd filled the position and couldn't afford to take him on, even for part-time work.
"What else did they say about the restrictions?" asked Molly, breaking the tension. "Will werewolves be allowed go to home?"
"Assuming they have one," Remus mumbled. The Ministry encampment could only be marginally worse than homelessness, or drifting from one makeshift shelter to another, always on the edge of starvation.
"The changes in restrictions are pending an investigation of Dolores Umbridge," said Kingsley. "If I'm not mistaken, she was behind most of the regulations against werewolves."
"We will wait to hear what the Ministry tells us," Dumbledore said, nodding sagely at Kingsley, before turning to Remus. "It can only help us to have werewolves on our side . . . though not if it comes at the expense of Remus and his family."
Remus scrunched his eyes closed and folded his arms against his chest. His mind drifted to the possibilities ahead. If the restrictions were eased enough that Tonks was no longer responsible for him, he could quietly separate from her and try to be useful. It would pain him to do so, but it would be for the best.
"Love," Tonks murmured, nudging him in the side. "Wake up. The meeting's over."
Lifting his head and finding the Order members lingering around the fire, waiting to Floo away, Remus realized his reverie led to an untimed snooze. He flushed, feeling his face burn with shame, and tried to avoid the others' disapproval. Tonks helped him up. He took the stairs slowly, leaning on her for support, until they reached their bedroom on the top floor. Remus began undressing, pulling his robes over his head with a smothered whimper.
"You didn't have to go to this meeting." Remus could only make a small, noncommittal noise from the back of his throat. Tonks pressed him, adding, "Please don't tell me you're really thinking about going to find those rogue werewolves."
"If it helps—"
"—but not at the expense of our family," Tonks said, slamming the wardrobe shut. "I've lost my dad. I can't lose you too. Promise me you won't go or talk to Dumbledore about it behind my back."
"Dora—"
"Promise, Remus." Tonks's grey eyes watered. "Don't lie to me."
The ferocity in her voice took him aback. "I won't go," he croaked, flopping down on their bed. "I'll stay."
"Good." Tonks exhaled and joined him, grabbing her midsection and groaning. "Not this again."
"What's wrong?" Remus sat up and frowned at her discomfort.
"Cramps. They've been awful this week."
"There's Pain Relief in—"
"—your nightstand, I know. I already took some, but it's not doing much." Tonks pushed back her reddish-brown hair, her eyebrows scrunching together as she grimaced. "Mum said stress can do this to the body."
Remus, though achy himself, worked his fingers gently into the muscles in her lower back. Tonks relaxed into his hand and closed her eyes.
"Robards is taking over for Scrimgeour," she said, arching her back. "He already told me he won't promote me, but he won't sack me for being married to you."
Guilt rumbled across Remus's conscience. "That's . . . good?"
Tonks shrugged. "Not really. With Scrimgeour as Minister, he could force Robards to give me the promotion I was supposed to get last year, but I get it. It's not as important as a certain dark lord at large. Anyway, Robards said I was going to be assigned to patrol Hogsmeade starting in September, but with my mum being the one to have killed Bellatrix, they're keeping me on desk duty." She sighed and gently removed Remus's hand from her back. "Any ideas for your job search?"
Remus laughed humorlessly. "There will be no job search. I'll take whatever I can get."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Tonks stared at him incredulously. "You don't care about your job? Didn't the bookshop people say they'd give you a good reference?"
"I care as much as I need to. It's perhaps better I don't care about the job . . . or whoever I work with."
Remus twiddled his thumbs and let his gaze fall to his worn shoes. Perhaps a shoe shop would be a good place to start, or, as his stomach grumbled, a supermarket. He thought of his old bookshop coworkers and hoped no Death Eaters came their way; he'd got attached to Muggles in the past, only to lose them one way or another.
Tonks cleared her throat. He glanced at her, brow still knit together, lips parted, waiting for him to continue.
"I got lucky with the bookshop. I liked that job, and frankly, I'm astounded I lasted almost a year. That's the longest I've gone without getting sacked," he said, rubbing his tired eyes. "As I can't be useful to the Order, I'll find—"
"You can be useful to the Order," Tonks interrupted. "Bellatrix is dead. Every Auror knows who you are so if you're 'caught' out-and-about, you won't get thrown in a holding cell. If either Lestrange or Voldemort want anyone, it's me or mum, not you."
Remus looked sideways at his pillow. He needed rest, but as he'd slept through most of the meeting . . . "Is that what Dumbledore said?" he asked, pushing himself awake.
Tonks scoffed and rolled her eyes. "He didn't need to. If he's willing to have you go underground with werewolves, why wouldn't he be willing to have you on less risky missions? Just because you shouldn't throw your life away on a dangerous mission doesn't mean you can't help. If you were really fucked, you'd be in hiding until the war was over."
There was nothing Remus felt he could say in return without arguing. He wished he hadn't slept through part of the meeting; he couldn't shake the feeling something was missing. "Fine," he conceded wearily. "I'll see what I can do, and try to find a job in the meantime."
Brown and pink strands fell over his shoulder as Tonks leaned into his side. "I don't care what your job is, just to be clear," she said, yawning. "I don't want you to be unhappy, and I don't want you risking your life because you think that's all you're good for."
Remus didn't bother stopping the yawn that came over him. From the corner of his eye, he saw Tonks's eyelids droop. Murmuring that they could discuss the issue tomorrow, Remus tucked himself into bed, worrying only over Tonks and the pained groans she made while clutching her abdomen.
Dishes flew through the air as Andromeda's wand cleared the last of the dinner she'd made. Remus kept a hand on his mug's handle, watching Tonks make circles around the rim of her mug with her finger. Her magnetic, dark eyes met his.
"You won't do anything reckless?"
"Sirius will be there." Remus cleared his throat and stared at the pots and pans suspended in air, being scrubbed by Andromeda's enchanted sponge. "Albus requested Harry's help for a task. They'll be here later tonight."
"Dumbledore needs Harry?" Tonks raised a pink brow. Andromeda frowned, a similar look of disbelief on her face. Remus shrugged.
"I don't know what it's about. I trust Albus."
Andromeda scoffed and Tonks chewed on the inside of her cheek. "You'll be safe tonight, right?" she asked.
"The odds that Fenrir will be there are small. Even if he is, I'm wise enough not to follow him."
"Nymphadora," said Andromeda, floating a tea kettle between them, which poured out steaming water into Tonks's mug, "have you visited St. Mungo's as you said you would?"
"Tomorrow," Tonks yawned. "Didn't you say grief makes you tired?" Remus couldn't place the look in Andromeda's steely grey eyes that flitted between him and Tonks. He couldn't decide if his mother-in-law was furious, exasperated, or disappointed.
"Go tomorrow, please," Remus said quietly, reaching his hand out to meet Tonks's. "Even if it's just a bug you've got."
"I will." Tonks took a sip of her tea and sat back. "This ginger tea helps. Thanks, mum."
A pained, frantic look overcame Andromeda. She masked it a moment too late; it was unmistakably fear. Remus's watch whistled at him, but he didn't want to go, not with Tonks feeling ill and Andromeda genuinely worried for her.
"Go," said Tonks, tapping Remus's watch with her wand, silencing the alarm. "Tell me about it when you get back."
He hesitated, but put his mug in the sink, bid Tonks and Andromeda goodbye, and stepped up to the foyer to Apparate out of Grimmauld Place. He spun on his heel, holding his cloak tightly, and landed at the juncture between Diagon Alley and Knockturn Alley, turning into the darkened shopping district. He kept his hands in his pockets and kept his eyes down. Padfoot would be arriving soon.
Remus stopped just beyond Borgin and Burke's. A flickering neon light looked down at him. The Twisted Talon, a once-fashionable wizards' lounge set in the heart of Knockturn Alley, had seen better days. A cold, wet nose pressed into his palm. Expecting Padfoot, Remus jumped back when a lynx's yellow eyes were on him.
"I wasn't expecting you," Remus said quietly.
Kingsley tilted his head to the side, pointing his snout at the door. Remus sighed at the Animagus. Kingsley, to his astonishment, had become a lynx Animagus with Sirius's help. The wizards were no longer together (or rowing, Remus couldn't quite understand what had happened between them), but it seemed they had coordinated that evening.
"Is it just you?"
Kingsley growled low and scuffed his paw against the ground. They'd discuss it later, then. The grey, amber-eyed lynx lifted his ear and started moving. Remus followed him to the door and slipped through.
Remus's eyes stung with the thick, pungent cigar smoke that filled the club. He kept his cloak's hood over his head. Kingsley was at his side, sniffing the air curiously, while Remus snaked around the sticky, whiskey-and-vomit splattered floor. He felt a jaw close around his wrist and tug him to the back of the club, where heavy drapes obscured a side chamber's contents.
Bracing himself for what was within, Remus pushed through the drapes and found an unoccupied seat. Kingsley sat at his feet, half-obscured by the table to their left, and pointed his snout in the opposite direction. Though it was smoky and several bodies were in the way, the figure on the opposite side of the chamber was none other than Fenrir Greyback.
"How—" Remus whispered, but Kingsley snapped his jaw around his wrist, which led to Remus's hand grazing the backside of a scantily dressed wizard. The wizard turned around and smiled hungrily at Remus. While Kingsley padded off to the other side of the chamber, Remus's vision was filled with the dancer's oiled chest. He tried not to wince as the dancer straddled his lap and gyrated.
"Err—" stammered Remus, wanting only to close his eyes.
"I can feel you," said the dancer, in a deep, husky voice.
Remus shuddered violently when he felt the hardening bulge in his trousers. It was mortifying, but as Remus pressed his fingers around, he realized Kingsley had left a sack of coins there. While it appeared he was fondling himself, he was merely taking a coin or two out to give to the passing dancers. Both witches and wizards were in this chamber, pressing their bodies against the heavily panting clientele.
Remus kept his mind busy, considering which was more uncomfortable for him; after a few minutes, the first wizard left him, taking a few Knuts with him. He was replaced by a witch, and Remus determined the witch was worse. With the wizard, he could pretend it was his friends, trying to disturb him from his studies when they were teenagers, but the witch smelled and felt wrong. He struggled not to shove her off and run away, back to Grimmauld Place where he could scrub his skin clean and bury his nose in Tonks's hair.
It was like this for what felt like hours; dancers came and went, each one taking another Knut, Sickle, or Galleon, while Remus begged silently for Kingsley to return from his espionage. He could only take a glance in between the dancers that came to his lap; it was after the fourth or fifth wizard had pressed his sweaty chest against Remus's face that he could no longer spot Fenrir in the hazy chamber.
A sharp sensation nipped at Remus's ankle as a witch left his lap. His coins were running low, and as he yelped from the sensation, earning a satisfied smirk from the witch who'd left him, he looked down at Kingsley's amber eyes.
Remus stood up at once and made his way to the door. Kingsley sprinted ahead of him, leading him out of the club and up an alleyway. It was there he transformed back to a human.
"Tell me," Remus said curtly, "was that really necessary?"
Kingsley's eyes narrowed. "You didn't see what I did. Greyback is no gentleman."
Remus shuddered and ran a hand through his hair, leaving his fingers to rub the back of his neck. Kingsley stuck out his arm and Remus took it, letting the suffocating feeling of Apparating take him away from the shady alley. They appeared in Grosvenor Square, in a copse of trees, where Sirius was waiting for them.
"Kingsley lives nearby," said Sirius, by way of greeting. "We'll discuss everything there."
Remus followed Sirius and Kingsley up to a handsome brick building. They took a lift up to the top floor, which opened up to a narrow landing. They entered a sleek, cleanly decorated flat, which made Remus's eyes go wide as saucers.
"You live," Remus said, taking in the luxurious surroundings, "here?"
"Not usually," replied Kingsley. "Now that I work for the Prime Minister, I thought a well-known London address would be appropriate. Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place is notoriously difficult to locate."
He flicked his wand at the cupboards. Three glasses and a bottle of Ogden's Finest floated out. All glasses were poured, and the three wizards sat in the living room, with Remus feeling out of place and filthy next to Sirius and Kingsley. It was made worse by the palpable tension between the others. Remus just wanted to go home and be with his wife.
"You can shower," Kingsley offered, noting Remus's discomfort, all while keeping his eyes on Sirius. "Second door on the right."
Remus didn't delay. He shut the door behind him and took a longer-than-necessary shower, taking care to rub his skin almost raw. He laundered his robes and clothes while he was at it, using magic, and cleared his throat loudly before coming out of the loo. He'd walked in on Sirius more than once in their school years; he didn't want to repeat the experience as adults.
Kingsley and Sirius were both slightly disheveled when Remus found them in the living room. Harrumphing to himself, Remus took his seat and took a large swig of firewhisky. He cleared his throat and shook his damp hair away from his eyes.
"What did you discover?" asked Remus. "What is Fenrir planning?"
"One of the Lestrange brothers is in contact with Fenrir and a few of his connections," replied Kingsley, sitting back, his hand barely brushing Sirius's. "There's been talk at the Ministry of relaxing the guardianship laws for werewolves. Soon anyone will be able to be a guardian, not only family."
Remus stilled, his glass halfway to his lips. "Tonks wouldn't have to be responsible for me anymore?"
"She wouldn't have to be." Kingsley tilted his head from side to side and groaned. "She's your wife. This change applies to most of the werewolves who have no one." He stretched his hands out, cracking his knuckles, and continued, "Fenrir is under the impression that Lestrange will arrange for new guardians for all werewolves who want one, in exchange for their loyalty to Voldemort."
"No one would agree to that," Remus said instantly. "No witch or wizard wants to be associated with werewolves."
"Ungrateful prick," muttered Sirius, rolling his eyes and looking out the window. Remus flashed him two fingers.
"You know what I meant to say. Who are they going to convince to be a guardian for werewolves?"
"I believe the Imperius Curse was discussed as an option," Kingsley said, grimacing. "Fenrir and the missing, rogue werewolves are under one of the Lestranges' protection. Wherever they are, it's under the Fidelius Charm and other enchantments—I couldn't hear a word of their location."
"Which means it would be a suicide mission for you to go after them," Sirius warned, clasping his hands as he leaned forward. "You'd have to get your guardianship documents changed, leave Tonks, and join them. I don't fancy your odds at surviving that, not after being married to Tonks and being associated with the Order."
"I agree." Kingsley's deep voice and stern gaze left no room for Remus to protest. "You would be walking to your death, Lupin, not helping the Order."
Remus inhaled sharply and looked out the window, where the lights around the square illuminated the night. A very different picture formed in Remus's mind: once Tonks knew she no longer needed to be his guardian, what would stop her from turning him out? If she left him, rebuked him publicly—that would be reason enough to go undercover with the werewolves. He'd be there brokenhearted and spurned, but could be useful to the Order. A profound sense of loneliness and grief tore through him, imagining a life without Tonks.
". . . while you two were out having a good time," Sirius said, poking at Remus's knee, "I had to spend the evening with Old Sluggy."
"Slughorn?" Remus asked, taken aback. "Professor Slughorn?"
"The very one." Sirius knocked back the rest of his drink and set the glass down. "Dumbledore wanted Harry's help to get Slughorn back on the teaching staff. I thought it was only that, but when Dumbledore showed up with his hand withered away—"
"What?" Remus sputtered. "He did what?"
"Dumbledore came to Privet Drive to ask for Harry's help in getting Sluggy back. I know Slughorn and knew it had to be Harry alone, but Dumbledore's hand was black and burnt. I wouldn't let Harry go alone without an explanation, so I was dragged along. Slughorn was thrilled to see the 'man of the hour,'" Sirius said bitterly. "Two hours later, while Harry was packing his things, I cornered Dumbledore. He won't give me the details yet. I threatened not to let Harry go back to Hogwarts."
"You did?" Kingsley's brow went up in surprise.
Sirius laughed darkly. "Dumbledore didn't like that one bit. He had no choice but to promise me he'd tell me what happened and what plans he has for Harry. I'll know soon enough—Harry's at Grimmauld Place now. Unless he goes to the Burrow and hoodwinks Molly Weasley, nothing is going to happen to my godson."
Remus tapped his fingers against the side of his chair. "Is Slughorn going to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts?"
"He taught potions," Sirius said, frowning. "Why would he teach Defense? Is Snivellus leaving?"
Kingsley and Sirius proposed various theories for the next Defense professor. Remus couldn't fathom why Severus would leave Hogwarts. If he wasn't a werewolf, Remus would beg for the chance to teach again. His job-finding efforts were as dismal as they were a few weeks before. Perhaps he could ask Dumbledore to be his guardian, which could only help Tonks in securing the promotion she rightly deserved, and with the Headmaster's influence, help Remus in finding a job in the wizarding world, now that some of the employment restrictions were easing.
". . . I'm a free agent," Remus heard Sirius say. "I could teach."
"The position's cursed," Kingsley muttered. "Harry wouldn't want you to—"
Remus caught the fury shining in Sirius's eyes. Harry's wishes still seemed to be a sore subject for them. Not wanting to get stuck between the lovers' row, Remus got to his feet.
"I should go," he said, making a show of looking at his watch. "Tonks will want to see me. She's not feeling well, anyway, and I promised I'd be home as soon as I could."
Kingsley and Sirius paused their impending argument.
"Tell Harry I'll be home later," said Sirius, flicking his gaze at Kingsley. "Andy and Tonks are probably smothering him with food and affection. He won't miss me—we just spent three weeks together at Privet Drive. I didn't let him out of my sight for more than a few minutes."
Remus sighed in relief and bid them goodbye. He couldn't stop the thoughts from coming; with the guardianship laws changing, he could only imagine a future where Tonks was free from him, while he would wither away, dirty and forgotten, but having tried to make the world a better place.